


when i'm with you i have fun

by MasqueofRedDeath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, hangovers, porn with a bit of plot, with a sprinkle of angst so it won't be boring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasqueofRedDeath/pseuds/MasqueofRedDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about Derek is that he hasn't been happy since he was a little kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when i'm with you i have fun

**Author's Note:**

> I'm putting a disclaimer here in case anyone reads this and is disappointed. This fic is Derek/Stiles, but the sex scene in it is Derek/Erica. Depending on whether I have time/if people want it, I might add on a bit of Derek/Stiles fluff porn in a second chapter. Also, as opposed to the normal progression of fanfiction where fluff devolves into angst, this is angst that devolves into fluff. Enjoy.

The thing about Kate is that she's beautiful. 

And she's older and smart and for some reason she likes Derek. Shy, awkward Derek who still has braces for the first three weeks that they know each other. Derek, who gets pushed around at school. Who gets his books knocked out of his hands and condoms put on his locker door, who cried in the bathroom in the ninth grade because everyone said he gave his sister a hickey. Who cried harder because the bruise on her throat was his fault, but only because he lost his shit on the full moon, went absolutely rabid his life was a living hell and his dad had to put him in the basement until morning. 

Kate is like an angel reaching down into the deep. She makes all of the anger, all of the embarrassment and the frustration go away. She picks him up from school in her cool car and lets him touch her boobs in the backseat and doesn't laugh when he almost comes the first time she touches him flesh on flesh. Kate comes into his life when Laura and his brother Cody are away at school and his parents are always busy and he just wants someone to talk to, someone who isn't his Uncle Peter. Kate is all ears. She listens more than she talks and it's the first time for Derek, the first time he can pour his heart out. 

She makes him feel wanted and attractive and he trusts her. He trusts her with everything he has. When he tells her what he is and shows her the face of the wolf at the beach he can't believe her reaction. It's like she isn't even surprised, just intrigued. She touches his face with curiosity and he answers her questions about werewolves and then they drive back from the beach. It's night time and he's not allowed to drive at night with just his learners, but he's willing get in shit from his mom and dad if it means holding hands with Kate over the console. 

After the fire Derek thinks of her hand as cold and damp, slimy and vile, but he knows it really wasn't. 

***

The thing about Isaac is that he's still a kid. 

It isn't the age that makes Derek think it, but the way he looks at Derek. He's so lost on the inside, and it's not hard to see why. Sometimes Derek wonders if he was really helping when he turned Isaac into a werewolf. He had thought that giving him power would get rid of that empty feeling his dad left in him. Derek often thought after the fire that if he hadn't been a werewolf he probably would have gone insane. It was the instinctual drive to keep going after his whole family burned that let stopped him from laying himself out on a highway and letting an eighteen wheeler take him out, turn him into the roadkill he felt he deserved to be. 

And yeah, he can see how the bite has helped. Isaac doesn't look as afraid as he used to and Derek can sense that it's not all just a brave face. Sometimes when it's just the two of them he can feel Isaac relax a little, can see his shoulders loosen and his eyes drift off. Because people will try to hurt him, that's a given of being in a young pack in a town bursting with hunters, but for once Isaac can hurt back. 

They're eating Thai food in the little office area above the warehouse in train depot. There's enough room up here for two sort-of bedrooms, a couch and Derek's flatscreen that he may or may not have stolen three years back. They don't have cable, but they do have a DVD player. They're in the middle of Super 8 (Isaac's pick) and Derek is kind of bored and he let Isaac pick dinner so he isn't quite sure what he's eating. But it's peaceful for him. He's the kind of relaxed that means he's going to get at least 6 hours of sleep tonight and he can't wait. 

Isaac sits up on the couch to grab something from the brown paper bag on the makeshift coffee table and Derek smiles, playfully nudging him with his foot to get his big puffy hair out of the way of the screen. Isaac's slow to look at him, setting his food down on the table. Derek beams at him to show he was joking. Sometimes he thinks about Isaac getting knocked around by his dad and Derek doesn't know how to handle it because his own dad would rather cut off his own hand than hurt his kids. Isaac's heart is suddenly beating very fast and Derek has no time to react because Isaac lunges at him, knocking his take-out box onto the rough office carpet with a thwack.

He's used to being hassled by other wolves. He actually kind of likes it when Isaac tries to rough him up because it reminds him of fighting with his sister and brother and his cousins. One time he rolled down two flights of stairs and out the front door with his cousin Tim, all fangs and fur and snarling - that was the last time the Jehovah's Witnesses came to the Hale's. But he knows almost instantly that Isaac isn't trying to rough house. Isaac's arms go around his waist and press him back into the couch and he remembers that first time with Kate in the back of her car and how confused he was that it was actually happening, that someone was in his lap and kissing him and holding him so close that he could feel the red hot rush of their blood against his skin. 

Isaac kisses him hard and sloppy and nervously, like he isn't sure if what he's doing is okay, and Derek really doesn't know if it is but for some reason he doesn't push him off. He doesn't do much in the kiss either. He's so caught off guard. Isaac slows down, as if realizing what he's doing but not knowing how to stop. Derek kisses back a little when he goes slow, almost a little subconsciously because no, he doesn't want Isaac in this way. He wants Isaac as a friend and as a second-in-command. He wants Isaac as a brother. But he hasn't kissed anyone in so, so long. He puts his hands on Isaac's shoulders and pushes him back, shaking his head. 

"Isaac..." he says, breath heavy from the kiss. "No... It's not like that."

Isaac is panting and shaking in his lap and Derek keeps his hands on his shoulders, keeps him from bolting. Isaac's fingers loosen from the front of Derek's shirt. He sits back, looking anywhere but at Derek with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I just..." 

Derek tries to smile but he feels so heavy in his chest. "There's nothing to be sorry about. It's okay, Isaac. Let's just watch the movie."

Isaac nods and climbs out of Derek's lap. The space between them on the couch becomes No Man's Land and neither of them cross it. They go to bed after the movie ends, Derek cleaning the food off of the floor while Isaac brushes his teeth in the handicapped bathroom with the one working toilet. 

In the morning Derek gets them both coffee and Boston Cream donuts and everything is okay again. Isaac is just a lost kid who doesn't know what he wants and Derek knows that the best solution is to give him sugar and try to forget it ever happened. 

***

The thing about Erica is that she reminds him of Kate. 

Well, she reminds him of the situation with Kate. Erica fills the role of young Derek. She's been bullied and is awkward and has no control over own body. Derek sees himself when he sees her for the first time. She thinks she's invisible and a billboard at the same time and he wants to help her so badly. He tries to tell himself that he wants her in his pack because she would be easy to control, that he could make her obedient if he gave her a little bit of power. But it's a lie. Like with Isaac he sees a kid in hell and thinks that he can free her.

When he seduces her his own skin crawls. He's attractive and older and knows more than she does. He manipulates her, plays on her illness and her insecurities and her hormones to get her to agree to the bite. But he feels so guilty because he doesn't want Erica the way Erica wants him. She's already pack in his mind, and if he's honest with himself, Derek doesn't think he'll ever be able to date a blonde again in his life - assuming he ever dates anyone to begin with. 

Erica is still human when he brings her to the office above the train depot. She's shy and nervous and Derek tells her to sit on the couch and gets her a can of Coke from the fridge in the little staff room he's been making less and less gross with Isaac's help. She fidgets and he notices she put on makeup. He was just going to talk shop with her, but he can scent out what she wants, what he led her to believe he was going to give. And he feels so guilty that he asks if she wants to see where he and Isaac sleep. He doesn't bother showing her Isaac's room. He takes her into the big office with the dirty, barred windows leaking sunlight where the grime's been brushed away. It's just a mattress on the floor and a stack of milk crates separating his clothes, but she doesn't seem to notice. 

He gets right in close, hearing her heart speed up, watching her lips go dry as her breath quickens. He brushes some hair out of her face and says, "Is this what you want?"

Erica says, "So bad," her eyes closing and her head tilting away as he leans in to her throat. He inhales through his nose and underneath the chalky perfume she smells fucking delicious. 

He kisses her throat and encloses her waist with his arms, pulling her into his chest. She gasps and digs her fingernails into his shoulder blades, scratching down slowly in a way that makes Derek shiver. And then they're tumbling down onto Derek's mattress, her legs locked around his hips. She kisses him back clumsily, but with purpose, like kissing is something she's thought a lot about doing, but she's never given it a try. Derek takes his own shirt off and Erica looks stunned, her hands shaking a little when she runs her palms over his chest and his stomach, hovering over the waistband of his jeans. He can't help but smirk at her. She blushes and takes a deep breath, pushing up a little so she can slowly pull her own shirt off. Derek is glad she isn't a wolf because his heart is pounding so hard in his own chest. He feels so fucking guilty for this, because she's only sixteen and he's mostly doing this for his own selfish reasons and Erica looks so nervous, just lying there in her bra. It's most definitely her first time being with another person, and that person doesn't love her. Derek almost gets up and leaves, but somehow he feels like that will only make it worse. 

I'll make it up to you, he thinks, though he really doesn't know how. 

He kisses Erica, trails down her chest and slips off her bra and gets her on top of him in nothing but her floral underwear, grinding against his boxers. She looks happier than he's ever seen her. It's obvious she's a virgin. She stops every five minutes and asks if she's doing okay and the first couple times she makes Derek groan she assumes she pinched his dick or something. Just... her hips... and her ass... and the way her whole body rolls. He really didn't expect her to be good at this. Didn't expect her to have a rack like that. Derek never intended to get hard, but it just sort of happens. He can't even really remember the last time he had sex, the last time he actually enjoyed jerking off instead of using it as a way to make himself sleep. Erica is so warm and soft and human, but she moves with purpose, getting what she wants while holding on tight, like she's afraid Derek is going to try to push her off. 

Derek doesn't try to get Erica out of her underwear and she's happy to stay in them, which is a bit of a relief. Derek knows he's breaking several laws doing what he's doing, and he has no condoms and no intention of taking this any further than it's already gone. He rolls Erica onto her back and leaves a massive hickey on the side of her breast and it's only when he accidentally catches her with his teeth that he realizes his fangs are out. He looks up at her in shock because he hasn't lost control like this in a very long time. He knows his eyes must be red and his teeth are long, sharp and deadly and that Erica hasn't seen him like this yet. 

He expects her to scream and struggle and try to push him off. Instead she gasps and her legs tighten like a vise around his hips. He feels her whole body shake and her heart pounds so hard the vibrations push against his skin like waves. He watches her face with a low growl building in her throat; watches as her head tips back and her eyes roll. Derek feels her nails scratch against the backs of his thighs as her toes curl. 

He can't help it. He really can't. His hips jerk of their own accord, with no rhythm, probably a bit too hard. And then he's coming in his boxers, snarling and ripping into the mattress with his claws.. Erica whimpers, burying her face in the crook of his neck. When Derek flops onto his back his skin is sticky with sweat and his chest is rising and falling fast as he tries to catch his breath. Erica does the same beside him. 

After a couple of minutes he gets up and searches his milk crates for clean boxers. He hears Erica gasp and turns his head. She blushes and looks away, arms crossed over her breasts. He smirks. You'd think that with what had just happened she would be able to check out his ass without turning into a tomato. But then Derek remembers she's 16 and he was probably her first kiss and she may or may not count this as losing her virginity. 

Derek cleans himself up with his dirty boxers and then pulls on a clean pair. His room smells like sex and girl and Derek's definitely going to need to go to the laundromat with his sheets tonight. Erica starts getting dressed and Derek feels bad. Should he have cuddled with her, or would that make things worse?

He's trying to think of something to say when she speaks first. "Um, so that was fun. And yeah, being a werewolf, I would like that..." There's a 'but' there, and Derek waits for it. Erica swallows and meets his eyes, wringing her hands. "But can this just be a one time thing? Just... I don't love you or anything. And I don't want to be with you."

Because the thing about Erica is that she's never what you think she is. She isn't a younger Derek, that's for sure. Derek grins and nods. "My thoughts exactly."

***

The thing about Stiles is that he drives Derek crazy. 

Especially when Stiles starts coming to pack meetings. He's always there in the corner, taking notes and sassing Derek. He's there long before Isaac manages to reel Scott into the pack, eating Derek's food and questioning Derek's authority, dragging Lydia and Jackson along with him. Derek is rude at first, telling him his opinion doesn't matter because he's human and irrelevant. One time Derek pushes the couch out of his loft with Stiles still on it, trying to get across that Stiles is not welcome. Not even a little bit. But everyone knows that Stiles, despite his all of his irritating little quirks, is welcome. He's smart, great with research, keeps Scott in line - and to be honest, Stiles even lightens the mood. Derek doesn't notice when Stiles starts hanging around his new apartment with the others, even when there's no reason for him to be there. He's sort of part of the pack, so it's no big deal. Until one day Derek gets out of the shower and it's just Stiles in his living room, playing Farcry on Derek's PS3 and eating Derek's tortilla chips while he also researches old pagan blood rituals and everything the Bestiary has on witches. Derek considers going back into his room and hiding until Stiles goes home or someone else shows up, but he decides that's stupid. It's just Stiles. So he climbs over the back of the couch, picks up the second controller off of his (real!) coffee table and waits for Stiles to turn on the multiplayer mode. 

After that Stiles starts coming to Derek's place on his own and it's sort of like it was when Isaac first moved in with him. They eat a lot of take out and go to the movies with just the two of them a couple of times. Stiles begins to rival Erica in the amount of texts he sends Derek per day, though Stiles are usually a lot less stressful. The day before Stiles' eighteenth birthday they go out to one of those restaurants that have brown paper you can draw on covering the tables. It's just the two of them in a booth in the back and Derek finally admits for the first time in forever that he was a big art geek in high school. He doesn't talk about how he used to draw Pokemon on everything he owned, but he feels like Stiles wouldn't judge. He draws Stiles' face in as much detail as he can with a purple crayon, werewolf-ify's it and then rips it off of the table with a claw. Stiles chokes on his chocolate milk - apparently he didn't believe Derek could draw. Whatever. Derek still pays for both of them, because it's Stiles' birthday and he's seen the contents of Stiles' bank account. 

Once, when they're trying to free the high school of a murderous banshee, Scott cuts Derek off. "Why do you always pair up with Stiles?"

Derek stares at him. Scott lifts an eyebrow. "I do?"

Boyd starts laughing and Jackson elbows him. Beside Derek, Stiles starts to fidget around with the buttons on his flannel shirt. Thinking back on it, yeah, maybe Derek does pair off with Stiles a lot. Well, all of the time. But that's because Stiles is the only one who can't adequately protect himself against an attack. He doesn't have werewolf abilities, or Allison's training. He's smart, but he's not as smart as Lydia, who can make a bomb out of almost anything and who has one of the most vicious wolves Derek's ever known watching her back. Derek's the alpha - it's his responsibility to look after Stiles. 

Right?

"Would you rather be with Stiles?" Derek asks, and before Scott can agree he says, "Because I can look through the basement with Allison if that's what you want."

Scott starts growling and Boyd can't keep himself from laughing anymore. It's almost enough to distract from the way Stiles relaxes beside Derek. Derek gives him a look. Stiles smiles back, running a hand through his hair, which he's been trying to grow out. He shrugs and steps a little closer to Derek, looking as though he wants to say something but he has no words. It's a feeling Derek understands, but not one he's ever thought Stiles would have. 

"What?" Derek asks. 

A window shatters above them and the banshee comes screeching out into the night before fleeing back into the darkness of the school. Derek grabs Stiles immediately, tucks his clumsy limbs close and shields him from the spray of glass that rains all around them. It settles after a moment and Stiles is panting against Derek's collarbone, adrenaline making him clench and unclench his fists in Derek's shirt. Derek pulls away, shaking glass out of his hair. He feels a dozen little cuts begin to heal along his back and the sensation makes him shiver. Stiles licks his lips, pupils blown. There's a little scratch on his left cheek and Derek fights the urge to lick the blood away, like his mom used to do when he was little. 

Just a wolf thing, he thinks. Because he's weak like a child. 

"Me and Stiles will take the top floor. Lydia and Jackson, you're basement now. Let's go."

He doesn't look at Stiles again until they're alone, and by then he's pushed the whole episode in the parking lot out of his head.

It isn't until the end of Stiles' senior year in high school that Derek figures it all out. He gets a garbled call from Stiles about being stuck out at the beach three towns over with no way of getting home. It's the middle of the night but Derek still drives out, sleepy and in his pajama pants. When he pulls up to the shitty parking lot at the beachfront he realizes that Stiles isn't just stuck out here alone by chance. He's at a bonfire and there are cars and drunk teens and hazy pockets of smoke everywhere. Stiles' Jeep is no where to be seen, so he gets out of the car and whistles before shouting, "STILES!" 

He doesn't expect to be tackled from behind, but it happens. He grabbed the arms around his chest and swings his attacker around - only it's not an attacker. It's Stiles and he smells like a bum on St. Paddy's Day. Derek sighs. "You're drunk," he says. 

Stiles leans against him. "And you're grumpy. And cute. You're so cute. I like your pants."

Derek's stomach does a little flip and he doesn't know why. Stiles makes a good looking drunk. He's all disheveled and heavy eyed and sandy. His face is a bit red, probably from the sun, and he smells like he'd been swimming earlier. "Get in the car," Derek says, resigned. Stiles salutes him and stumbles off to the passenger's side of the car. When they're back on the highway Derek asks Stiles if he came to the beach alone, where his Jeep is, why Derek had to be the one to pick him up. 

"Scott drove and left with Allison and because you're my faaaaavourite," is Stiles' answer. Derek tries to ignore it. 

He gets Stiles home and walks him to his porch. Sheriff Stilinski opens the door before Derek can ask Stiles if he has a key. It's the moment Derek's been dreading. The Sheriff scares him. Knowing that Derek spends a good amount of time hanging around his barely-legal son is only going to make it worse. But the Sheriff takes in Stiles' drunkeness and Derek's pajama pants and general aura of 'I was sleeping until I had to help this idiot'. He gives Derek a tired smile and a nod. 

"Stiles, I called you. Seven times," Stiles' father says. 

Stiles sighs and leans against Derek, nodding. "Uh huh, I'm sorry. Derek drove me home. Derek's a sweetie. A sweet little butter tart. Right Derek?"

Derek gives him all the glaring power his alpha-ness allows without his eyes actually going red, but that doesn't stop him from blushing. "You need to go to bed," is all Derek says. 

"Thanks for getting him," the Sheriff says, moving out of the doorway. He gestures for Stiles to go inside. Stiles doesn't get the memo, choosing to sway back and forth while he hangs onto Derek's arm, eyes looking into the middle distance. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately."

It's probably werewolf things. It's always werewolf things, fucking with everyone's lives. Derek can't say that though. He doesn't even want to acknowledge it to himself, because he's the alpha and he's supposed to keep human's from getting tangled up in werewolf shit, even if they're pack. He's about to dismiss the whole subject when Stiles pipes in.

"I'm in love!" he cries, resting his head on Derek's shoulder. "So in love! Remember the gay talk, Dad? I'm in gay love. With a werewolf."

The Sheriff looks as though he's on the brink of an epiphany, staring at the both of them. Derek can feel the light of the waxing moon burning against the back of his neck and he wants to shake Stiles off and run as fast as his arms and legs will take him. But then Sheriff Stilinski snorts. "I think you made me watch that movie before," he says, taking Stiles' by the arm. "Come on, you've kept Derek up long enough."

He starts to pull Stiles into the house, and Stiles goes as willingly as a dead octopus covered in olive oil. He turns awkwardly, his father still pulling him away, and slings an arm around Derek's shoulders. He kisses Derek wetly on the cheek and mumbles, "Love you" so soft against Derek's skin that only Derek can hear it. 

The Sheriff winces at the loud smacking sound his son's lips make and shakes his head. Derek shrugs Stiles off and watches him stagger into the foyer of his house, where he fumbles drunkenly at his sneakers for a moment before falling flat on his ass. The Sheriff looks from where his son lies on the floor, laughing, and back to Derek with a look of pain on his face. "I think it would be best if you didn't bring this up to him."

Derek is still gaping a little. Stiles thinks he's in love with Derek. And Derek... Well, Derek isn't sure it's unrequited this time around. He's firmly proven to himself that getting close to people doesn't work for him, like with Kate and Isaac and Erica. People want Derek for information or because they're lonely or because he's hot. But Stiles... He could almost believe that Stiles is telling the truth. That he's really in 'gay love with a werewolf'. 

When Derek says, "Sure" it's a beat too late. The Sheriff doesn't notice.

"Goodnight Derek," he says.

"Goodnight," Derek replies, and then walks back to his car, thinking of nothing but the press of Stiles' lips on his cheek. 

He drives home and doesn't go back to bed. He sits on the couch and stares at the wall, not bothering to take off his shoes or his leather jacket. He's probably been there for an hour when Isaac comes downstairs, taking a water break from one of his weird threesomes with Boyd and Erica. Isaac is so caught up with whatever is going on in his room that he doesn't notice Derek until he's drifting through the living room to look out the window. He jumps and there are claws and snarling and his glass of lemonade smashes on the floor. Suddenly Erica and Boyd are there in their underwear, all wolfed out and alarmed. 

"Derek, you scared the shit out of me!" Isaac shouts. 

Derek just looks at him. 

"What's wrong," Boyd asks, practically bristling with tension. "What happened?"

Erica steps forward, claws still out. "Are you okay?" 

Derek doesn't think so. He keeps thinking of Kate and that time they drove home from the beach and the way he said 'I love you' and she never said it back, but he hadn't noticed. He thinks of the way he kissed Isaac back for a moment, how he considered it because he was so fucking lonely but he couldn't do it because it wasn't right, because Isaac is like his brother. And because he couldn't feel anything, not for anyone. Not for Erica, when they got off together before he bit her. Derek can feel love. He loves his pack. He loves his family still, even if they're gone. Some part of him still loves Peter, even if most of him hates his guts. And he does love Stiles - but does he love Stiles differently? Does he love Stiles in the romantic way?

He shakes his head and looks at his shoes. His sneakers. Stiles always says it's impossible to take Derek seriously because his favourite shoes are Velcro strap sneakers and the thought does that thing to Derek's chest where he feels all warm and happy and he smiles to himself. 

"Derek?" Erica repeats. 

Derek looks up at her, his face falling when he sees how they're all staring at him. "I think I love Stiles."

The reactions are... not what he expects. Isaac's arms go above his head and he starts belly dancing. Boyd shouts, "MOTHERFUCKER" and storms up to Isaac's room while Erica squeals and hops into Derek's lap, still in her underwear, and still smelling like sex. 

"Forty bucks my friend! Each!" Isaac shouts up the stairs. "I had faith in you, Derek. I knew you'd be the one to figure it out first."

Erica squeezes Derek tight, chanting, "Forty bucks, forty bucks, forty bucks," softly. 

They knew?! They had money riding on it?! Derek knows he should feel mad and he hates how endearing he finds it, but he's definitely not above ruining it for them. He pushes Erica off, getting to his feet. Boyd's coming down the stairs as he goes up them. He stops him with a hand to the shoulder, meets his eyes, and says loud enough for it to carry, "Stiles said it first."

Boyd's grin is almost worth the inner turmoil of the night. 

As Derek closes the door to his bedroom he hears Boyd collecting $80 bucks from both Isaac and Erica. 

***

The thing about Derek is that he hasn't really been happy since he was a little kid.

And for a long time he thinks it's because he when he was a kid he was young and innocent and everything young and innocent is happy. But that isn't true, and he knows that's true. Isaac showed him that. Erica showed him that. Boyd, Scott, Allison, Jackson, Lydia and Stiles showed him that. He was only sixteen when his brother and sister moved out, when the Argent's started closing in on his family and his parents never had the time to talk to him. He was only sixteen when the kids at school treated him like shit and he felt ugly and stupid and out of control, And Kate came and showed him that happy was having someone to be close to, to share with. He's forgotten how to be happy. 

But lately.... Well, lately he's been really happy. Stressed, yes. On the verge of driving himself and everyone around him off of a bridge while laughing maniacally, yes. But definitely happy. Especially with Stiles. 

He drives over to Stiles' house the next morning, when the Sheriff is gone and the sky is bright blue and everything smells wonderful and looks wonderful and Derek finally notices that he feels wonderful. Stiles, on the other hand, looks and smells and most definitely feels like shit. Derek crawls in through his bedroom window and finds Stiles throwing up in the bathroom. He rubs Stiles' back and wipes up where Stiles' didn't make it to the toilet while Stiles' wordlessly brushes his teeth. He waits in Stiles' room, listening as Stiles takes a shower, and then stands in the hallway so Stiles can get dressed. 

Stiles opens his bedroom door, still looking like shit, but less shitty shit. 

"Feeling better?" Derek asks. 

Stiles nods gravely. "Do you want to talk about last night?" 

Derek considers just kissing Stiles instead, not bothering with stupid words. But he promised Erica when he left that morning that he would talk to Stiles about their feelings, not just throw him on the bed and fuck the ability to do basic math out of his head. The second one does sound a lot more appealing. Stiles lays down on his bed, covering his eyes with his forearm and Derek sits in his computer chair. He twists back and forth nervously, listening to the rhythmic creak that Stile's can't hear.

"I, um," Stiles starts. "About last night. I, uh..." 

"You make me happy," Derek buts in. He can't stand to hear Stiles stumble over it. If they're going to use words then they're going to use them efficiently. Stiles lifts his arm away from his eyes, staring at Derek open mouthed. He has a nice mouth. Derek's hasn't noticed that he's noticed, but he has. He's noticed over and over again. He's never pressed any of the thoughts before but God, does he want to press them now. "You all make me happy. The whole pack. They're like family, and family makes me happy. Being around my pack, around people I love... I've missed it. I missed it before the fire. It's probably... Probably why the fire happened." Derek is looking at his hands, and his stomach feels so sick. Stiles is breathing hard and each breath grates hard against Derek's hearing. "I hate being alone. It's a werewolf thing. And I guess it's a me thing. The pack is comforting. But you're... You're different to me, Stiles." He forces himself to look up, to look right into Stiles eyes, all golden brown and bloodshot with his hangover. "You listen to me, you're always there for me. And... I want to be there for you too. I don't want anyone else to have to protect you, or make you feel happy. When you're around everything's just kind of better..." He wants to touch Stiles, wants to stop talking, wants everything he's said to be enough, but he doesn't feel like it is. So he tries again, one last time. "When I'm with you I have fun. And I love you for it, okay?" 

And that's it. That's all he had to say. Derek isn't much for jabbering on, and Stiles isn't either, but it was so much to get off of his chest and for a second breathing is just a little bit easier.

Silence drags on between them for a few long minutes. A slow shiver runs through Stiles as he tries to gather up his words. Derek feels exposed, like a raw nerve, and Stiles just looks so beautiful in the half light of the morning sun. It shines across his clean skin, casting shadows into the divots of his collarbones. Derek watches his face, watches as Stiles' nose twitches and his front teeth catch his bottom lip. He watches as Stiles takes a breath and let's it out. "I was going to apologize for making you pick me up," he says in a small voice. 

Derek never knew that the colour white was a sound, but he hears it. He's done it again, fallen for someone who doesn't love him back. He gets up, walks to the window and just jumps out. His feet hit the ground and he doesn't think he's ever done something so thoughtlessly stupid as any of that. Why did he trust those three? Why did he trust what Stiles said when he was drunk? Jesus Christ, he once watched Stiles eat a raw potato while drunk. 

Derek starts his car and Stiles bursts out the front door, running at top speed. Derek is going to drive away anyway, too embarrassed to hear Stiles' apologies yet, but then Stiles is bent in half and vomiting and Derek is out of his car so fast that the driver's door squeaks for weeks afterwards. He rubs Stiles' back again and holds his hand and when the old lady next door glares at them from her porch, he glares right back. Stiles stops throwing up long enough to say, "God, Derek. Love you too, didn't know you knew" before he begins dry heaving. 

"Then why didn't you say that upstairs?" Derek asks, a little giddy. He kind of wants to yell at Stiles for making him feel like an idiot, but the kid's got enough problems. 

Stiles coughs, a bit of bile coming out, and Derek assumes the regurgitated hamburger he smells tasted better on the way down. "I didn't think you'd ever want me back! I thought... you were straight?"

Derek trails his fingers over the curve of Stiles' throat, feeling the pulse jump against his knuckles as he crowds closer to Stiles' ear. "I'm flexible."

The click of Stiles swallowing is probably audible to humans a block away. He's at a loss for words for a moment, nodding with glazed eyes. "That's... good."

Derek gets Stiles back inside, gets him some water and a bucket from the basement. He kisses Stiles' on the cheek and feels that warm feeling when Stiles goes red, probably remembering that he kissed Derek last night in front of his father.

And later they can kiss on the couch and rut in their underwear until they come and later Stiles won't want to vomit and Derek won't be beaming like the smug asshole Stiles won't stop calling him. But for now Stiles sits on the porch, eating soda crackers and sipping water with a straw, bucket hugged close to his chest while he watches Derek spray his vomit off of the driveway with the garden hose. And if he gets his white t-shirt a little wet on purpose, well... 

"Don't be a tease," Stiles calls, voice echoing out of the lip of the bucket. 

Derek rings out the front of his shirt in an exaggerated way that has the old lady next door dropping her morning tea. "You love it."

"Yep!" 

And God, is Derek happy.


End file.
